A Little Entertaining
by blueteaful
Summary: Your eyes shot open.  The sky was a dark, cloudy red, people walked the streets in the distance, and you could hear the faint sound of cars honking at each other.  You were going to be sick. Wiping your mud covered face, you stood up on wobbly legs. Were you bleeding? Were you alive? Were you dead? What the fuck is happening?
1. Prologue

Your peaceful silence is interrupted by a hard face plant directly into some mud. Groaning at the ache that resides in your muscles, you shakily push yourself up. What had happened? You rested on your knees, still sitting in the mud. A grimace adorned your features as you tried to decipher what was happening. Taking a small ounce of solace in the darkness behind your closed eyes, you brought yourself back a few hours. You were just finishing up at work and you clocked out and headed to your car. On the drive home you were going through an intersection and-

Oh. Oh God. Your eyes shot open. The sky was a dark, cloudy red, people walked the streets in the distance, and you could hear the faint sound of cars honking at each other. You were going to be sick. Wiping your mud covered face, you stood up on wobbly legs. Were you bleeding? Were you alive? Were you dead? What the fuck is happening? Looking around at the dead brush you landed near, you feel bile rise up in your throat. You promptly threw up mere stomach acid onto a nearby tree stump.

Great, now your throat hurts too. You spat onto the ground and wiped your mouth with the sleeve of your shirt. The same shirt you had just been wearing to work. You trudge towards the bustling city, anxiety settling in hard. This was a whole new place, and seeing strange creatures roaming around the streets only served to increase your paranoia. Accelerating your pace, you kept walking in the same general direction, attempting to form a coherent thought. Your mind was a large jumble of panic, stress, and most prominently, confusion. You are passing apartments now.

Would it hurt to knock on one of the doors and ask where you were? You stopped nearby one and hesitantly moved to stand in front of the door. Holding your hand up, you repeated the same instruction over and over in your head, 'Knock on the door, ask where you are. Knock on the door, ask where you are. Knock on the door. Ask where you are. Knock and ask. Knock and Ask. Knock and-' your knuckles rapped on the door quietly.

No answer. You took a deep breath and tried again, this time a bit louder. Finally you heard a grumble and a shuffle of feet. After the click of a lock, the door cracked open. A tall, scaly creature peered down at you with a sneer. "I don't want whatever the fuck you're sellin'," the stranger said. You panic, "No-I mean-could you just-"

The door slams shut and the lock clicks back into place. You back away from the door, rubbing your arms. The shirt you were wearing harboured several tears and it was quite cold outside. Okay. This wasn't the end of the world, you could ask someone else! You went to the next house over and repeated your actions, only to be cursed at and have another door slammed on you. Not willing to give in so easily, you headed to another house and knocked once more.

Only to have yet another door slammed in your face.

This continued for at least an hour, and the sky was beginning to darken even further. By that time you were shivering, holding back tears, and on the verge of an intense panic attack. Not to mention the fact that some of the people resorted to physical violence to get you away from their property. This left you with more than a few bruises and a few potential scratches you had yet to check out. Finally, you arrived at a large building. It looked like a rather empty hotel, spare a select few lit windows. You couldn't help but notice how gorgeous the stained glass was compared to the surrounding buildings. Hope sparked in your chest and you shakily went to knock on the door. Three soft knocks resounded before you backed up from the door, not particularly wanting to be injured any further. The door opens to reveal a tall blonde woman who is eyeing you curiously. She has pale skin, red cheeks, and she's dressed rather formally. So, she must be the owner or perhaps a manager. Her name tag reads, 'Charlie,' in neatly scrawled letters. After looking you over briefly, a smile spreads across her face, "Hey, um, welcome to the Happy Hotel! Usually people just walk in, but um, it's okay that you didn't! Are you here to check in?"

You feel your lip quiver without even getting a word out, and those tears you were holding back threatened to spill any second now. Someone finally opened the door and kept it open, and you could barely explain your situation. You finally manage to say something, "I-um-I don't-I'm sorry to bother you, but um-can you please help me I...I don't-" you stammer, tears stinging your eyes as they roll down your cheeks, warm against the cold. "I don't know w-where I am or where-" you choke on a sob, "where to go, and-" you're starting to become an incomprehensible mess of sobs.

Without hesitation, Charlie wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you inside, "Oh hun, come on in, I'll make some tea and we can talk about what's happened, okay?" She brings you to the lobby of the hotel, letting you sit down in a plush chair. Worry is plain on her features, but she still gives you a sympathetic smile as she hands you some tissues. "I'll be right back with that tea, for now you just try to calm down, okay?" You nod in response, trying to force down the impending panic attack.

You take several deep breaths, and within a few minutes, you were able to slow your heartbeat and dry away your tears. In order to not begin panicking again, you take a look around at the hotel lobby. By the kitchen door that Charlie had disappeared behind, there was a bar. At the bar was a grey and red anthropomorphic cat that seemed to have card suits all over his fur. He seemed to be drunk, and was sipping from a bottle quite literally labelled 'Cheap Booze'. Somehow not the strangest creature you've seen so far. The hotel was furnished with mainly red and black decorations. Portraits line the wall, most containing Charlie, and popped out against the colours of the wall. You still marvelled at the stained glass. Certainly it looked even more stunning during the day. Down the hallway leading to some rooms and a staircase, you could see a short, pink creature fervently scrubbing at a spot on the floor.

As you were speculating about the critter, Charlie returned from the kitchen and strolled over to you. She placed a tea tray on the coffee table and took a seat in the armchair beside yours. She offers you a small smile, handing you one of the cups of tea and gesturing to the sugar jar on the tray, "Help yourself if you want any," she puts a few scoops of sugar in her own tea and stirs it around. You put in a few spoonfuls and watch the grains dissolve with a few stirs. Charlie sets her cup down on the table and brings her full attention to you, unsure of how to approach the topic at hand. You sip from the cup, then lower it to your lap.

"Are you feeling a little better? I mean I'm sure you're not completely okay, but are you alright to talk?" She asks softly. You nod. No matter how distressed you were at the sudden change in surroundings, you needed answers. "You don't have to beat around the bush with answers though, okay? I can handle it, and I've already taken up so much of your time," you turn yourself to face Charlie. Her smile is nervous, strained, even, "You've barely taken any time! Plus I don't mind, I wasn't doing much anyways." She explains, likely to stall for time. "Right, well, um, to put it bluntly, you're in Hell."

Your brows raise, then furrow. You had never been very religious, if at all. The thought that Hell existed hadn't really crossed your mind, even after arriving. This place just seemed like a weird fever dream. After a few beats of silence, you speak up, "I thought Hell was supposed to be all fires and enternal torture, you know? I mean besides all the weird mutations, this place seems pretty normal." At this, Charlie lets out a laugh. Her grin softens into a smile as she regains her composure, "Yeah, a lot of people assume that before they arrive, but I don't think you've seen nearly enough of Hell to make that judgement."

She stirs her tea idly, "It's really overpopulated and frankly, pretty disgusting," she grimaces for a second before her gaze softens once more, "But I love the citizens. Which is why I opened the Hotel, to guide sinners to redemption. Although business isn't exactly booming." She laments, gaze no longer trained on you, rather she just happened to stop her eyes on you. She finally fixates on your person and smiles a little, "Do you think you'd be interested in staying?"

You purse your lips slightly, mulling over the question. You weren't even sure if redemption was possible. Plus, would Heaven be any better than Hell? If people are being sent straight to the underworld for menial things, would redemption even be worth it? Perhaps it was better up there. You don't have anywhere to go, so you kind of don't have a choice. You let out a breath of air and nod, "I'd like to try, sure."

Charlie's eyes light up, "That's awesome! Okay so we have to get your information and all that, then we can get'cha your room key!" She sets her tea down and stands, "Wait here, I'll go get the new member papers!" she hurries away. Meanwhile, you look back to the cat. He was in the exact same position, still drinking. He looks back at you, eyes narrowing, and sets down the bottle.

"The hell you want?"

"I didn't-sorry," you stammer.

"Fuck you," he returns the bottle to his mouth and looks away.

You sigh just as Charlie comes jogging back with a clipboard and a pen. She hands it to you with a grin, "Here, fill this stuff out!"

Giving it a once over, you quirk a brow at the mandatory favourite colour question and look up at her, "Why favourite colour?" Charlie grins a little wider, "You'll see! Any colour you want…as long as it's not like black or grey, because we need positive colours and those colours kinda project a negative mood," she rambles. You stare at the question for a second before shrugging and answering with your favourite colour. Then you return to the top of the sheet.

First name, middle name, last name, nickname, birthday, all that junk. You stop when you reach the date and cause of death. Hastily, you scribble the phrase 'Car crash' but think more on the date. As you are unable to remember, you look to Charlie for some kind of guidance. She leans over to look, "Oh! If you don't remember the date, it's November 13th here in Hell," she doesn't seem to glance at the cause of death, and stands back once more.

You scribble the date, then come to the final few questions. Prominent reasons for ending up in Hell, any addictions, allergies, important medical information. It was easy enough to fill out everything but this section. After all, you couldn't recall most of the information required for the questions. Who knows, you may have had an allergy or two, maybe you were addicted to caffeine, or maybe you were narcoleptic or something. You didn't know. That in and of itself was frustrating. But even more frustrating is that you don't even know what you did to end up in Hell. You look to Charlie, halfway holding out the clipboard to her, "I..don't remember the answers to these questions."

She takes it from you and looks it over, "That's okay, we can fill this stuff out later if you want." She tucks it under her arm and takes a key out of her pocket, "Come on! Let's get you into your room," Offering a half-hearted smile, you follow her upstairs. She stops at a door in the middle and unlocks it before holding open the door and allowing you to enter. It was quaint, and frankly, pretty clean for a room that was supposed to be vacant. The wallpaper was hues of your favourite colour. It brought you a bit of joy to see the ornate stripes pop out against everything else. The bed was larger than you expected, with a fluffy looking comforter resting atop. There was an empty dresser across the room, and a nightstand adjacent to the bed that had a lamp perched on it.

You turned to see Charlie grinning wildly, practically bouncing with excitement, "It's not that much, but I just know that once you get settled in, it'll really feel like home!"

A small, genuine smile adorned your face, "It's perfect, thank you, um, Charlie," you half stammer. She had never told you her name, hopefully it was okay addressing her by her first name after only reading her nametag. Charlie, however, didn't even seem to notice that she hadn't formally introduced herself, and nearly squealed with glee. "You're going to love it here!" She pushes the room key into your hand. "Let me know if you need anything, okay? And don't be afraid to ask!"

You clutch the keys, "Thanks, I'll see you in the morning?"

"You betcha! Night, Y/n!" She turns on her heel and begins bouncing down the hall before you can even reply.

"Night," you speak, barely above a whisper, and close the door softly. There was no way she heard you.

You plod to the bed and sit down, allowing an uneasy breath to escape your lungs. After setting the key down on the nightstand, you bring your knees up to your chest and rub your temples. This was all so aggravating. You were in a new place, and though you were thankful for all that's happened within the last hour and a half, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. You could scarcely even remember your life before you fell into the underworld. And now you were expected to accept that so easily.

Maybe if you just stopped thinking about anything for a while, you'd feel better. You sigh and bring your hands down to your sides, stretching out your legs. Settling back on the bed, you bring a hand up to push some hair out of your face.

But you stop midway.

Because there, clear as day underneath your skin, something was wriggling.


	2. Chapter One

Your mouth was agape as you stared at what should have been the ulnar vein in your wrist. It was tinted a slight green and wriggled wildly beneath your flesh. You were quite reasonably petrified, and only after several silent minutes did you gently prod at the vein with your right index finger. The vein ceased all movement and almost completely changed back to the normal blue that could be seen through the skin.

You instantly feel an intense wave of nausea sweep over you. Your poor legs were wobbly as you tried to sprint to the bathroom door. Fumbling with the knob for far too long, you thrust the door open and make a beeline for the toilet. That tea you had earlier wasn't so pretty coming back up. You watched the brown substance disappear in a swirl of stomach acid and toilet water.

Taking deep breaths as you lean back on the wall, you observe the room. A blue towel hung on the wall next to you. The wallpaper matched the bedrooms. Even the tiles that lined the bathtub wall were white mixed with sporadically placed tiles of your colour choice. There were already the respective bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Only unlike the hotel's up in the human world, these are normal size. Probably due to the assumption of a long stay from whatever patron was residing in the room. Upon closer inspection, you discovered that they were coconut scented. You also discovered that it was hilariously named Paintene. You crack a small smile at that, and look to the sink next. A toothbrush still in the packaging and a generic brand of toothpaste sat by the sink.

You decide to put those to use since you had just puked. The toothpaste in Hell tastes horrible, for the record. But after all is said and done, you wash the toothbrush and place both items in the medicine cabinet. When it closes, you look at yourself in the mirror for the first time. You were covered in a few bruises and dried mud, but other than that, you seemed to be you. Your teeth weren't even sharp, as you had noticed everyone else's were. You seemed to be utterly normal. Maybe that wriggling vein was a hallucination of sorts.

Yeah. You could believe that. You leave the bathroom and look to the dresser. Out of sheer curiosity, you open the top drawer up. Lo and behold, there was some baggy leisure clothing in there. You hesitantly take the clothes out to inspect them. It's a gray long sleeved shirt and some black sweatpants. Perhaps not exactly your size, but hey, you absolutely were not complaining. You open the lower drawers and find boxers. The kind of boxers that are nice to sleep in, at least. There's also polka dotted fuzzy socks. Once again, you aren't going to complain about free comfortable clothing. Especially when you were wearing dirty and torn up clothes.

You scan the room once more for any other openable compartments. The nightstand drawer catches your eye. You set the clothes on the bed and open the drawer. Inside is a battery powered alarm clock, an unopened pack of batteries, and a pack of Band-Aids. You got the feeling that the Band-Aids were added specifically for you. You grab the Band-Aids, close the drawer, get the new clothes, and enter the bathroom for a shower.

The water isn't quite hot enough to ease your tensed muscles, but it still feels wonderful to get clean. You allow yourself to forget about all the crazy shit that's happened within the last few hours. In short, you relax.

After your shower, you dry off and get dressed in the new clothes. You leave the old clothes on the bathroom counter because frankly, you don't want to deal with them. Then you sit on the bed and apply the Band-Aids to the most prominent wounds. After you feel that you are sufficiently bandaged, you place the box in the nightstand and lay back on the pillows with a sigh. The blanket is a little itchy, but that's okay. You feel at peace for the time being. There's even a small smile playing on your lips as you drift away.

There's vague shapes clouding your vision when you come into consciousness. The shapes slowly refine into the interior of a car. You're behind the wheel. Your hand is tapping the side of the steering wheel in tune to the music. It occurs to you that this is all vaguely familiar, and it fills you with an almost tingly warmth. There's a sound to your right that startles you, causing you to whip your head around, heart rate suddenly speeding up. There is a person sitting next to you, but they are only a blur of colours. The sound resonates once more. It's a voice. It's her voice. You can't make out her features, even when squinting as hard as you can. The voice becomes frantic, words unintelligible. You drowsily look to the road in confusion, mouth opening to say something. But all at once there's a clear scream and a loud, sickening crunch.

You shoot up, grasping the comforter for dear life. Breathing hard, you try to familiarize yourself with your surroundings through your blurry vision. Once your vision restores, you begin to focus on items in the room, finally slowing your breathing. You're drenched in sweat and your face is wet with tears. Stumbling out of bed, you head to the bathroom and sloppily turn the sink faucet on.

After a few cold splashes of water to your face, you feel much more grounded into reality. You were in Hell, you recalled as you dried your face with the towel. As you stepped out of the bathroom, you noted that it was most likely morning, as the sky was no longer a nearly black shade of red, but a sort of light crimson. The white ball of light in the sky remained exactly where it had been the night before. That must've been Heaven. It had a super bright halo around it and everything. You snort and close your curtains.

You apply fresh Band-Aids and check your wrists for any unexpected green veins. Everything was clear, so you exited your room in search of something to drink and maybe eat. As soon as you reached the entrance to the lobby, you were hit with multiple different scents. There were several tables set out, all full of food trays. Your previous distaste for food was shot out the window the second your eyes began scanning the food. You figured that you wouldn't even be hungry. Guess you were wrong.

Your gaze was abruptly torn away from the display by a practically vibrating Charlie. "Hey Y/n! What d'ya think of the buffet?! It attracted so many demons!" A small smile forms on your face at her (rather contagious) positive energy. "It's..great? I think so anyways, I got hungry as soon as I came down here. Did you cook all this?" You inquire, slowly making your way to the plates.

"Oh no, Niffty did! And I think Alastor helped too.." she trails off, tapping her chin in memory. Those are names you don't recognize, "Who's that?" You ask, piling some eggs onto your plate. "Niffty is that cute little cyclops over there," she gestures to the critter you had seen cleaning the night before, causing you to mouth an 'Oh'. You grab a waffle and step away from the slowly building crowd of demons.

"And I haven't seen Al around today, so uh.. you'll know him when you see him. He's very red..and kinda intimidating." She explains, skimming the room and furrowing her brows when she can't find him. You open your mouth to speak, but she interrupts you, "Oh! It's Monday so he's probably broadcasting!" Now it was your turn to furrow your brows, you hadn't expected a radio broadcaster in Hell. But to be frank you hadn't expected most of what's happened to you in the past day or so.

"What's his broadcast about, like a talk show?" you ask, shoving a forkful of eggs into your mouth.

"Uhh, kinda..well, no, not really. As far as I know it's a mix of news and um..live murder?" She gives you an almost sheepish smile, brows knitted together. Mulling over that, you weren't really sure if you should be shocked. You didn't have enough knowledge about Hell to know if this was unusual, but due to Charlie's expression…

"How common is murder down here?" comes your egg-muffled query.

"Well, it's not like crime rates are low. Murder isn't uncommon but..it's usually because of fights or uh, drugs. But Alastor has a sort of reputation down here for mass carnage." She explains.

"And he lives here? With a bunch of other perfectly killable people?" you lower your plate, quirking a brow at her. Truth be told, your heart was going a little faster at the prospect of a mass murderer living in the same space as you and a bunch of (not-so) innocent demons.

"Um, well, he's actually the hotel's sponsor! He does have a room here. But I don't know how often he uses it." Okay, that was not reassuring at all. In fact, your heart probably dropped to whatever circle of hell was beneath you. The grimace on your face must've been noticeable, because Charlie immediately tried to remedy the situation, "But he said he wouldn't kill any of the hotel patrons, so don't worry about that!"

"'Not killing someone' still leaves a bunch of open opportunities," your grimace does not fade. "He could literally torture people or have someone else kill them without consequences. Though I'm not sure who would be willing to ally with this guy after what I've heard about him." You finally take a bite of toast and chew slowly, mulling over that thought.

Charlie is pretty sure she knows exactly who-or rather what-would be willing to kill patrons in Alastor's favour. But she had said "No trickster voodoo stuff," the very day The Radio Demon had entered the hotel. So his shadows were hopefully out of the equation.

You continue chatting with her idly while you eat, trying to push the supposed serial killer to the back of your mind. He sounded like someone you didn't want to meet. Speaking of meeting, as soon as you finished your plate, Charlie asked if you wanted to meet some of the other patrons. You shrug and mumble a "Sure,". Because what do you have to lose? She first takes you to the cat-owl you had engaged in brief conversation with the night before.

"Hey Husk! This is Y/n, our new patron!" She turns to you, "Y/n, this is Husk! He's our bartender!"

"Yeah, yeah, nice to meet you, now fuck off," comes the grouchy reply from the most likely hungover demon. He shoos you both away. Charlie shrugs off Husk's behavior and drags you away before you have the chance to respond to Husk.

The blonde's eyes scan the crowded lobby, then land on a very tall, very fluffy, white and pink spider. Said spider is attempting to casually walk out the front doors, nearly hidden amongst the flock of demons. Charlie rushes over and gets in front of him, "Angel!"

Angel promptly groans and somehow manages to demonstrate a dramatic full-body eyeroll. Slouching shoulders and all. Charlie gives him a pointed look, almost like a mother scolding her child, "You know you're not allowed out of the hotel right now, Angel."

"Jesus Christ, Charlie! I've been locked up in this hotel for ages! I ain't allowed to have alcohol, I can't see my friends, I can't fuck myself, let alone go ta work and fuck a client! You've cut me off'a drugs entirely and to top it all off you make me go to that shitty therapy every Wednesday!" He fumes, and Charlie sputters for a moment before going silent and looking away from the spider.

And, you know, you can't help but think you arrived in Hell at a bad time. If only you had slept in a little longer. Then maybe you wouldn't have had to bear witness to this. The spider glares down at the demoness before stepping to the side and resuming his walk to the door. Charlie bites her lip, mulling over the outburst from the spider. She sighs after a few seconds, noting how Angel's already out the door. Her attention is redirected to you, "Sorry you had to see that, Angel's a little..ill-tempered. Although it does make me wonder if I'm doing the whole rehabilitation thing wrong, y'know?"

"I mean, it looks like he's suffering from withdrawals. Maybe try easing him off with, I dunno, weed, then wean him off of that?"

"Well, I was considering implementing some kind of reward system, where if he's good he can have a drink or something," she scrunches up her nose, not too keen on the idea of Angel smoking weed.

"That's a good idea, it'd probably set a bunch of others straight as well."

You both watch the slowly diminishing horde of demons in a congenial silence. By the time there are only a couple left, the lobby is pretty much trashed. Plates left everywhere, trash from outside of the hotel, blood, for some reason. It looks like someone put twenty Sims in a small area and left them unattended for a week. Your comfortable expression had steadily morphed into a disgusted one. A few demons were at the bar, where Husk was giving them patron applications with an indifferent expression. Charlie, who was physically deflating at the mess, perked right up when she saw the three demons applying. Niffty comes skittering in, squinting at the new mess, "Are you kidding me?!" comes her screech, already beginning to clean the mess.

Right after her comes in a purple moth demon, shaking her head at the mess. She has a tired expression. She makes her way to stand next to Charlie and you. "So I guess breakfast didn't go so well,"

Charlie looks to her, then gestures to the demons standing at the bar, "Well it got some people to apply, so I think it was successful in the end!"

The woman looks over to the newcomers and tilts her head, "Yeah, that's something hun." She looks past Charlie to you, "Are you Y/n? Charlie wouldn't stop talking about you last night," a soft smile graces her face as she comes to stand in front of you. You nod, putting your hand out for a shake. She shakes it, "I'm Vaggie, thanks for joining." She returns to her spot next to Charlie, and they strike up a conversation.

After a few moments, you decide that you should take your leave. You waved to them as you made your way to leave. Charlie paused her conversation to say, "Have a good day, Y/n! The hotel's pretty large, so when you're feeling up to it you can go and explore it! If you need anything just come and find me!" You thank her and return to your room, hoping to wash up before familiarizing yourself with the hotel.


End file.
